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Why do I write today? The beauty of the terrible faces of our nonentities stirs me to it: colored women day workers- old and experienced- returning home at dusk, in cast off clothing faces like old Florentine oak.
William Carlos Williams
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William Carlos Williams
Age: 79 †
Born: 1883
Born: September 17
Died: 1963
Died: March 4
Autobiographer
Literary Critic
Physician
Physician Writer
Poet
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Today
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Dusk
Writing
Workers
Oaks
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Terrible
Returning
Beauty
Colored
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Clothings
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Women
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Nonentity
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More quotes by William Carlos Williams
A poem is a small machine made of words.
William Carlos Williams
It was the love of love, the love of swallows up all else, a grateful love, a love of natural, of people, of animals, a love ingengering gentleness and goodness that moved meand that I saw in you
William Carlos Williams
O Marvelous! What new configuration will come next? I am bewildered with multiplicity.
William Carlos Williams
I have never been one to write by rule, not even by my own rules.
William Carlos Williams
Let the snake wait under his weed and the writing be of words, slow and quick, sharp to strike, quiet to wait, sleepless. - through metaphor to reconcile the people and the stones. Compose. (No ideas but in things) Invent! Saxifrage is my flower that splits the rocks.
William Carlos Williams
Death will be too late to bring us aid.
William Carlos Williams
I will teach you my townspeople how to perform a funeral for you have it over a troop of artists unless one should scour the world you have the ground sense necessary.
William Carlos Williams
Afraid lest he be caught up in a net of words, tripped up, bewildered and so defeated-thrown aside-a man hesitates to write down his innermost convictions.
William Carlos Williams
A poem is a small machine made of words. . .Its movement is intrinsic, undulant, a physical more than a literary character.
William Carlos Williams
Liquor and love rescue the cloudy sense banish its despair give it a home.
William Carlos Williams
No opinion can be trusted even the facts may be nothing but a printer's error.
William Carlos Williams
The job of the poet is to use language effectively, his own language, the only language which is to him authentic.
William Carlos Williams
What power has love but forgiveness? In other words by its intervention what has been done can be undone. What good is it otherwise?
William Carlos Williams
The American idiom has much to offer us that the English language has never heard of
William Carlos Williams
History, history! We fools, what do we know or care.
William Carlos Williams
A poem is a small machine made out of words.
William Carlos Williams
But time in only another liar, so go along the wall a little further: if blackberries prove bitter there'll be mushrooms, fairy-ring mushrooms in the grass, sweetest of all fungi.
William Carlos Williams
The only human value of anything, writing included, is intense vision of the facts.
William Carlos Williams
The beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
William Carlos Williams
Old age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees above a snow glaze.
William Carlos Williams
